


Collected Warehouse 13 Drabbles

by astano



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted on tumblr. Collected here in one place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collected Warehouse 13 Drabbles

Fingers spark a path over Myka’s stomach, hips, her thighs. Myka’s skin prickles, gooseflesh marring the surface in the wake of Helena’s touch, and she inhales deeply, feeling the ache between her thighs intensify with each second that passes.

She’s thought in great detail about Helena’s fingers: memorised their shape, their length; wondered if the pads would be calloused or smooth; thought about how it would feel to have them pressing inside her, long and skilled and relentless in their desire to make her come undone.

It almost seems impossible that she’s finally finding out. Almost.

“Helena…” Her voice is shaky, breathless, and altogether a little too needy, but it’s been too long—too many minutes of Helena’s fingers teasing her higher, touching her but never really  _touching her_ —that she can’t at all control the way Helena’s name sounds like a plea, because it is. “Helena, please.”

The smile she receives in response is wicked, and her stomach tightens briefly, anticipation thrumming through her body in waves she can’t contain.

“Tell me, Myka,” Helena says. “Tell me what you need.”

The answer is easy. “You,” she says. “God, Helena, it’s always been you.”

Something like sadness passes over Helena’s eyes, only briefly, but it’s enough for Myka to catch. They’ve spent too much time dwelling on past mistakes already; Myka’s made peace with them, and she wishes Helena could, too.

“Hey,” she murmurs, then pulls Helena down into a kiss that’s careful, gentle, completely belying the way her body’s strung taut with arousal. Helena sighs, cups her cheek, parts her lips easily to the caress of Myka’s tongue.

It’s hard for the kiss not to deepen, for Myka not to clutch at Helena’s shoulders, whimper against her mouth.

“I need you.” she murmurs again, guiding Helena’s hand back to press between her thighs, where she’s hot and slick and so far beyond ready for Helena to touch her that it’s almost painful. “Oh, God, Helena, don’t make me wait anymore.”

“I won’t,” Helena says.”I won’t.”

And then she’s pressing inside. Those fingers Myka has fantasised about—because that’s what it was, all those night alone—curling in just the right way, like she already knows Myka’s body inside and out.

Maybe she does. Or maybe she’s reading it in the way Myka’s head drops back against the bed, the small sounds escaping her throat, and the cant of hips urging Helena’s fingers deeper.

It’s nearly too much, this thing she’s waited so long for, she nearly can’t bear it. But then Helena’s eyes find her own again, Helena’s lips form the words Myka didn’t know she’d been waiting to hear.

_I love you._

It’s suddenly exactly what Myka needs, and her body surges upwards, frantic in the last few seconds before she breaks, the echo of Helena’s voice still strong in her ear.

“I love you too,” Myka says later, when her body is heavy, languid and sated, and she has breath again to speak.

Helena smiles, unguarded and beautiful, and lets Myka press the words again and again into her skin until she too is breathless and sated. Until she too feels every word.


End file.
